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CRIMSON 



CRESCENT, 



DBAMATIZED 



BY 



v 



H. «. Calmer. 



MINEEVA, OHIO: 



H. H. PALMER, PUBLISHER. 



fjm^sMimmirm&mms^s \ \ \ \ - 



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Cast of Characters. 

Richard Bristol 

Bvdd Bristol 

Paul Potter 

Dutch Duff, a Saloon Keeper 

Julius Jenks, the Bar Tender 

David Hyatt 

Byron Bristoi 

Mr. Flynn 

Mose Magone, a Colored Tough 

Mrs. Bristol 

California Kit, a Lady Pugilist 
Anna Hyatt, the Wife of David Hyatt 
Phyllts Penrose, an Elderly Spinster 

Severn] 



Mi 



Synopsis of Incidents: 

ACT I. Richard driven from Home. Mrs. Bristol 
stabbed and left for dead. Two strangers — but prove 
to be mother and son. Mrs. Bristol and son escape their 
pursuers. Richard takes the oath of vengeance. 

ACT II. Paul Potter's first visit. The meeting of 
Richard and California Kit. The Sjfaring match in a 
Mining Camp. The Stolen Money. The Trial, boomed 
to Death on a Raft. Paul Potter and Frozen Hill in the 
Bar Room. The discovery in a Tool House. 

ACT III. The Two Fathers in search of their < hild 
ren. The Murder at the residence of David Hyatt and 
the v ill I8ii meets his doom. 

ACT IV . The arrival of the former nurse. Richard 
to his Father's rescue. Richard fulfills the oath and 
completes his revenge. Tableau 1h*f ended. 



4 



{(icliai'd; 



OR. 



• 

The Crimson Crescent. 



-BT- 



H. H. PALMER. 



5) 



+£====&4&====g+ 



$ 



^ 



-Entered according to act of Congress, in the gear I88j/ y 
by H. H. PALMER, 

in the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, 




WIM-RVA, OHIO) 

H. H. PALMER,Publisher. 
V' I 8*7, 



TS43.T" 



PRINTER, 



I^IGHAI^D; 



OR. 



The Crimson Crescent. 



ACT I. 
SCENE FIRST.— Kitchen in third groove— Bed r. of 
c. d. — Mrs. B. in bed — enter Dick c. d. — Business. 

Dick. Well, mother, he has ordered me to leave home 
to-day, and I am going. 

Mrs. B. I don't think it will make any difference, 
ray boy, if you do go; he will not treat me any better 
after you are away than he does now. Oh, Richard, I 
cannot bear to see you driven from home; please don't go. 

Dick. Yes. mother, I will go, and if that villian does 
yon any harm I will wreak vengeance upon him. 
Enter Budd, l. 1. e. 

Budd. What's that you said, young man? I thought 
I told you to leave an houi-ago. 

Dick. I said I wa*s going, and I also said that if you 
harm my mother, I would have revenge. Now beware. 

Budd. What do you mean, you young hound! 

Mrs. B. Oh, sir. do not drive my boy out in this ter- 
rible storm. 

Budd. You shut your infernal mouth, or I'll choke 
you. 

Mrs. B. Budd Bristol, would you dare? 

Budd. Yes, [Business. — Chord coming down. 



4 RICHARD; or, THE CRIMSON CRESCENT. 

Dick. Stop! You dastardly villain, if you stir out 
of your tracks I will blow you into eternity. 

Budd. What! How dare you. 

Dick. Sir, your vile treatment towards my mother 
has aroused me. 

Mrs. B. Oh, Richard, do not kill him, please don't. 

Dick. Very well, mother, for your sake I will not, 
but if he ever should molest you, let me know, and he 
shall pay the penalty. 

Budd. Curse you, the day will come when you will 
be sorry for this, boy. ■ Exit Budd, l. 1. e. 

Dick. Well, mother, I will go. Goo<\-bye\Business. 

Mrs. B. Good-bye Richard, be a good boy and may 
God bless 3 T ou. Exit Dick r. 2 e. 



SCENE SECOND.— Street in 1st groove— Enter Dick 

L. 1 E. 

Dick. Well it seems hard to be turned from home on 
a cold and stormy night like this, but no matter I'll pull 
through some way, for it's a long lane that never turns. 
Exit r. 1 E. 



SCENE THIRD.— Kitchen in third groove— Table at 
R. of q. d. — Mrs. B. seated at r of table reading a letter 
— enter Budd c. d. 

Budd. Well, are you going to give me them papers, 
or not? 

Mrs. B. No, 1 will never give them to you. 

Budd. Well, I'll have them, or take your lite. 

Mrs. B. Sir, do you remember the warning Richard 
gave you? 

Budd. What do I care for him, he ain't here now, 
and won't know who killed you. I will kill him also 
then I'll fall heir to the Niobrara ranch, and will not 
need the papers. So die. "Business. — exit Budd c. D. 

Mrs. B. Oh, this is terrible. The villain has fled and 
left me alone to die. But perhaps I can find Richard 
and warn him of his danger before it is too late. 

[ Exit. L 3 E. — Close in by irood in 1st groove. 



RICHARD; or, THE CRIMSON CRESCENT. 5 

SCENE FOURTH.— Wood in 2nd groove.— Enter 
Dick r. 1 e. « 

Dick. Well, I have some kind of warning— there is 
trouble at home, and I fear mother will yet suffer from 
the hands of that villain, so I will go home and keep a 
lookout for a while. 

[starts offh and stops at center of stage. 

Dick. Oh! Here comes a lady. I wonder who it 
can be. Ah, she comes this way. 

[enter Mrs. B. dressed in black heavily veiled. 
Dick. Good afternoon. 

Mrs B Good afternoon sir. [Business, 

Dick. I say lady are you looking for any one in par- 
ticular. J v 

Mrs. B I am looking for a friend who resides near 
this woods. 

Dick. I know all the inhabitants within ten mjles of 
here. Pray, what might your friend's name be? 

M /s. B lam looking for my son, and his name is 
Kichard Bristol. Do you know him? 

Dick. Well, I should remark I do know him— why 
that is my name. J 

Mrs. B. Oh, no, it cannot be that you are my sou- 
why he is not twenty years old, and I judge you are near 

f>'. 7 „, , [Business. 

Dick. What, mother is this you? 

Mrs. B. Oh, my clear boy. I am so glad to see you. 
[Business. \ But we must waste no time for we are in 
great danger. 

Dick. Danger? How so mother; has he done you any 
harm? J 

Mrs. B. Yes, but we must fly to a safe place of con- 
cealment and then I can tell you all. 

B™*. Mother, I know from the looks of your face 
that you are very weak, but can you ride a long distance 
on horseback? 

n™L B 't> Yes ' if w wiU be of anv benefit t0 us - 
Dick. But mother, why do you tremble so? 

Mrs. B Oh, Richard. Budd Bristol tried to kill me 
and l made my escape, but I fear he is on mv trial lona 
^re this. v & 



6 RICHARD; ok, THK CRIMSON CRESCENT. 

Dick. Ob. I understand. Come mother with m< 
my place of abode, and I wjll scwtn be ready. Once 
mounted on my horse Fleetwood, they can never cat eh 
us. So come now and we will soon be off. \efiit t.. 1 e. 



SCENE FIFTH— Wood in 3d groove.— Business. 

Dick. Come on, yon villains, come on. For, unle s 
my horse fails me, you will never catch ns now. I am 
much fresher for this long chase than you are, and my 
brave pard Fleetwood is not blowing yet — are yon Fleet- 
wood? Onceover yonder range of hills, I think lean 
throw you off my trail. They are out of sight now. 
mother, in that ravine. Now, if I can get over the range. 
I hope I can find a place where you can rest for a few 
minutes at least. 

Mrs. B. Xo, no. my child, do not stop on my account 
but keep on, Richard, until we are safe. 

Dick. Oh, I am safe anywhere but I fear on your ac- 
count and you are not strong enough to ride much lon- 
ger without rest, and we must find a place of rest soon. 

Mrs. B. Yes, we will fifnd a place of rest soon, it is 
but a matter of time when we will all be at rest. 

Dick. On, Fleetwood, on! Do your best old boy, now 
if ever. \exit r. — Business. — enter Budd with 3 

Budd. I tell you I saw him ride into these woods. 

AIL Rut they are not here no^, as you can see. 

Budd. Come on we may find them yet. Don't give 
up men. it Budd with men R 1 e. 



SCENE SIXTH.— Landscape in 3d groove.— Dick 
rides on, dismounts and lays mother on stage. 

Dirk. Oh, mother, are you worse; has this long ride 
over-tried your strength? 

Mrs. B. .No. my child, J am not worse; I am better, 
O! so much better, and I am glad it will soon be over, 
and then my poor boy I will be at rest, never to suffer 
any more. You ought not to weep Richard, you ought 
to be glad with me when you know how much I have 
suffered. 

Dick. Oh. mother, mother, can it be that you are 
d v i n o ? 



RICHARD: or, THE CRIMSON CRESCENT. 7 

Mrs B. Yes. my child I am dying so far as this 
world is concerned — but only dying to4iye again, where 
there is no sin nor sorrow. I have waited for this hour 
to come and I am glad it is at hand. 

Dick. Why? 

Mrs. B. Life lias been but a torture for a few years, 
and now that God will release me I long to go. Of 
coarse I will have to leave you, my dear boy, but I hope 
for your poor mother's sake, you will live such a good 
life that we will meet each other before the throne of 
God. Do not weep, my son, but listen, for these lips 
of mine will soon be closed forever. You know some- 
thing about our family matters — but not all. You know 
that I am your mother. 

Dick. Yes. 

Mrs. B. You are satisfied of that. 

Dick. Yes. mother, I am. For my very heart tells 
me that, 

Mrs. B. And you have always believed Budd Bristol 
fo be your father? 

Dick. I never knew t<? the contrary, mother, but 
when three years ago, he drove me from home in the 
dead of winter, then I had a suspicion that he was not 
my father. A suspicion that has grown upon me ever 
since. 

Mrs. B. And it was right. Your name is Richard 
Bristol, but you are not Budd Bristol's son. Listen; I 
must tell you all before I go, or I will not rest easy in 
ray grave. Years ago I married Bryan Bristol, your fa- 
ther, and we came west and settled in Iowa, where we 
took up land, and by the time you were born, we had a 
nice farm of 360 acres and were surrounded by many 
comforts. Finally Budd Bristol came to live with us, 
and persuaded Bryan to move farther west; take up a 
large ranch, and rent out our Iowa property. Budd off- 
ering to supply half of the money for the new venture. 
Well we left Iowa and came to Nebraska, and took up a 
large ranch. My husband was hard-working and in- 
dustrious but he took to drinking — it was Budd Bristol's 
fault, as I afterward learned, who lured him to drink — 
he drank up what money we had saved, then mortgaged 
the Iowa home, and drank up that money also, and by 



8 RICHARD; or, THE CRIMSON CRESCENT. 

that time he was down to the level of the sot — aye, 
worse. Things went from bad to worse until my hus- 
band was a total wreck. He had no mone} T or credit, and 
he finally said if we did not give him liquor or money to 
buy it with, that he would murder some one for their 
money That night Budd Bristol murdered a man, as I 
afterward found out, and accused my husband of the 
crime. The next morning a citizen was found murdered 
and my husband was blamed for the crime, and strong 
threats of lynching him were announced but Bryan as- 
sured me that lie did not kill the man and begged for 
money to fly the country. I had no ready money, so I 
begged a loan of Budd Bristol. I had to sign a paper 
to the effect that at Bryan Bristol's death I would mar- 
ry him or forfeit all right and title to the estate. 

Dick. And you did this. 

Mrs. B. Yes. I loved and pitied my husband and 
could not let him hang. I signed the paper and Budd 
Bristol gave me $5,000. I gave it to my husband, and 
he fled, and I never saw him afterwards. 

Dick. Well, you have aroused my curiosity. 

Mrs. B. A year afterwards, when you were but five 
years old, I read the death of Bryan Bristol in an Oma- 
ha paper. It gave such an accurate account that I 
thought it was him, without a doubt. After a period of 
mourning I married Budd Bristol, as I was obligated to 
him and to honor my promise. But I soon found out ni} 
mistake, and the last 12 years of my life have been filled 
with misery, and, when but a short week ago I learned 
where to find you I fled to you to die. Before I left him 
the demon gave me my death blow by stabbing me in 
the breast, because I would not give him the papers that 
rightfully belong to your father and you. This flight 
has set the wound to bleeding and I am fast bleeding to 
death — I have only a few minutes to live, but as I said 
before, I am glad to go. In my pocket you will find 
papers that will explain all. Of course as you are the 
only child you will fall heir to Bryan Bristol's half of 
the estate. 

Dick. But did jcny father leave no will? 

Mrs, B. Yes, that, too, is in my pocket, but do not 
lose it or let Budd Bristol get hold of it, for when he 



RICHARD; ok, THE CRIMSON CRESCENT. 9 

hears I am dead we will try to get you out of the way — 
and your father too. 

Dick. What! Does my father still live? 

Mrs. B. Yes, Richard, I think he does. I made a 
discovery. 

Dick. What is it? 

Mrs. B. I found an old letter that was written as late 
as 4 years ago. It was written in Bryan's hand writing 
and addressed to Bucld in person, and he asked a loan 
of Budd of $50 to buy a set of mining tools. So you 
see he lives. He wrote from New Luck, Nevada. That 
was as late as 4 years ago, and I want you to try and 
find him — I — I — there — there it's all over. 

[Business — exit r. after laying mother on horse. 



SCENE SIXTH.— Wood or landscape in 3d groove— 
Tomb ston es — Bus in ess. 

Dick. So Dead wood Dick is dead, eh? I have often 
heard of him — he was the wonderful western detective, 
fearless and bold, friendly to friends, but deadty to foes. 
He was a dreaded detective" and an avenger to wrong 
and evil doings. Why should I not be the same? I have 
a debt of vengeance to settle; a good old mother's death 
to avenge, and a father's ruin to repay. Yes, Buck! Bris- 
tol, I will have 3 T our evil life for all the bitter moments 
you have caused my poor mother, and for the cowardly 
blow that killed her. Spirit of my dead mother, I swear 
it here over the grave of him whose name I will assume, 
I pledge my life to run him down. Hear me, O, ye who 
keep the record book of vengeance, I raise my hand on 
high and swear it. 

CURTAIN. 



ACT II. 

SCENE FIRST.— Parlor in 2nd groove— table c— 
chair r. — chair l. — Anna at r. of table reading — Busi- 
ness. 

Anna. I wonder who that is. \enter Paul. 

Paul. Does Mr. Hyatt live here? 

Anna. He does, sir. 

Paul. And are you Mrs. Hyatt. 

Anna. I am. 



10 RICHARD; or, THE CRIMSON CRESCENT. 

Paul. I would speak with you madam? 

Anna. Sir, I do not know you. How dare you intrude 
upon my privacy? 

Paul. Because I dare. So you don't know me, eh? 

Anna. I do not. 

Paul. Take a good look at me, you may know me 
after all. 

Anna. I never saw you, sir, and if you don't leave 
the house at once I will call for help. 

Paul. No you won't. 

Anna Why won't I? 

Paul. Because you dare not. 

Anna. Who are you? What do you want? 

Paul. Tut, tut, not so fast, my dear, one question at 
a time, and they will last longer. So you don't know 
me, eh? 

Anna. I have twice assured you to that effect. 

Paul. But you see you are dead wrong. 

Anna. I will converse with you no longer. Leave 
my house at once or I will scream for help. 

Paul. Then I will too, and then we will bring- the 
whole town here, and, madam, your husband, 

Anna. Paul Potter, you dare! 

Paul. Ah, so you know me do you? Well I thought so. 

Anna. Wretch, what brings you here? 

Paul. I came to look at the face that once belonged 
to me, my dear. 

Anna. Bah, is that all. 

Paul. No, Anna, have you not forgotten and 
forgiven the past? Have you not some little spark of 
love for me. 

Anna. For you? No. 

Paul. Oh, well you need not be saucy; no, don't be 
saucy about it, Anna, it wont pay you. 

Anna. What do you mean? 

Paul. Precisely what I say. 

Anna. Or, in other words you intimate a threat. 

Paul. Hardly, my dear, hardly. When \ threaten a 
person I come out point blank. 

Anna. I wish you were dead. 

Yaul. Oh, I don't doubt that — you used to wish that 
L2 years ago. Why, it sounds like old times. 



RICHARD; or, THE CRIMSON CRESCENT. 1] 

Anna. Stop! Do not anger me further, or I'll — 

Paul. What? It's too bad about you Anna, you 
ought to have gone into a convent to become an angel, 
when 3^011 were born. By the-way, how do you like 
Hyatt for a change? I suppose he makes a more model 
husband than I did, eh? 

Anna. He is a very king of men. 

Paul. Indeed. Kind of a soft shell old turtle, eh? 

Anna. Oh, no, he is a gentleman. 

Paul. Then heaven only knows how you manage to 
get along with him. You like him better than you did 
me. 

Anna. If I didn't I'd kill him. I worship the ground 
he walks on. 

Paul. Well, really, that's comforting assurance to 
gain. But I can't see how 3 ou can like an old fossil 
like him in preference to an able bodied man like me. 

Anna. He is not an old fossil. He is an honorable, 
upright gentleman. 

Paul. And he has got an honorable wife, or, rather, 
he has got some one else's wife, which is all the same as 
long as he don't know it. 

Anna. Curse you, Paul Potter, do you dare say I am 
not lawfully his wife? 

Paul. That's about the size of it, Anna dear. 

Anna. You lie, you villain, you lie! 

Paul. You should not say that for you know I way 
brought up under the Washington code, and that I a! 
ways followed the example set by the illustrious George. 
Sit down, dear, sit down, I am not an artist or a sculptor. 
Sit down. 

Anna. I will not sit down. I hate you Paul Potter, 
for I know you have come here to break up my happy 
home. 14 years ago to-night I married you — 

Paul. Correct, j-ou retain dates in memory quite well. 

Anna. I was then only 17 years old. I married you 
because I thought I loved you, but I soon found out my 
mistake, but I kept it a secret and tried to make you 
happy; we were poor, I took in work and tried to help 
you along but it was all of no use, you took to drink and 
after our baby was born you deserted me, did you not? 

Paul. I did, Anna, because, as I told you then, you 



12 RICHARD; or, THE CRIMSON CRESCENT. 

did not love me and that our lives would only be a tor 
ture to us if we lived them out together. So I told you 
to go your way and I would go mine, but that you must 
never marry, and what did you do? 

Anna. Stop! 

Paul Do not interrupt me for I propose to finish 
the story you have begun. After you left me you put 
our child in a home, and there it died. You didn't even 
go to see it after it was dead, but I did, and prayed over 
its little body and thanked God for taking it out of its 
misery. The next I heard, you had joined a strolling 
theatrical party to play small parts, but made a failure 
in that. You next joined a ballet troupe. I managed to 
keep track of you. But that troupe finally discharged 
you, then you had me arrested and pulled into court on 
the charge of desertion. I refused to support you, and 
got six months in prison, where my associates were 
murderers, thieyes and gamblers.— That was nice— fine. 
Well, after I got out of that, I made up mv mind to find 
you— but I searched three years in vain. ' Then I put a 
detective on your trail and he made a new discovery. 

Anna. What? 

Paul Oh, nothing much, only that you had been 
married before I knew you, and had put the child you 
had in your custody into the poor house: in a year or 
two it was recognized by its former nurse and she took 
it out and started West with it. 
Anna. You villain, you lie! 

Paul. Well, after I heard you had married David 
Hyatt, and as I happened to be in town. I thought I 
would make you a friendly call and see if you would be 
glad to see me again. 

Anna. Well, I am not glad to see you, so go! 

[Business. 

SCENE SECOND.— Saloon in 3rd groove.— Duff be- 
hind the bar, and four miners seated on a bench, and 

Dick on a chair at a table on other side of the stage. 

Enter Kit l 1 e in new attire. 

Kit. Good evening, fellows. I say. are you °-oina 
to treat? ° 

Flynn. No, we aint going to treat. Any one that 



RICHARD; or, THE CRIMSON CRESCENT. 13 

slings on the lugs as you do with your Sunday togs, 

the crold n too CaDe ' * t0 ** "^ t0 treat Mms * lf and 

Kit. So you aint going to treat? 

All. No we aint. 

Kit. How is it with you, Dutchy? 

Duff. No, you got noddings do drink vot yous don't 
yas pay for. We don t do some of dot drust pisness 

uptrachS. eh - Welh * th ° Hgbt ? C0Hld h ^you 
ZMe*. My young friend, if you want a drink I'll 

Ke a r dgar GlVe ^ ^ & drink ' bartender . and ™ 

#?'#. Der girl? 

Dick. Yes. The girl. 

Duff. Und you vas a girl? 

Kit. Why, of course, Timberger. What do vou take 
me for? What do Hook like? * 

?J:-f- /.V. /oil vas look ust like a sissv dude 

Kit But I aint though. I am a daisy you bet and 
as fresh and fly as they make 'em . 

he2lC-t,iJhi ,,y0 T d0i ,' t Vant t0 g0t t0 ° f^h arount 

o, <W g .r m f ke mit yom " e >' e P lack < ^d den 

vou dond yas got fresh some more, all at vonce 

ven' dange^ul^^ S ° ? **• DHtCh * * «"7I«« «** 
t> jV £ _ „ . . • , Business. 

Kit. Come friend, let's take a seat over here. Do 

you know, I kind of like you 

Dick. Do you? Well," I guess I'll have to return the 

a Zt T? v, d ° n,t take mUCb St ° Ck in * irl s P 01ts a 
.1 inle, hut you are an exception 

verv In™ ?A ? T WeH ' you ' U find out if . V011 ^ow me 

br ,uoht !;„ ?n ,h ^ , n ° POt QOUSe P lant that ' s been 

he plane n n Jf™ ^ m "' Se a P u « dog and P la Y 
cne Pianei Oh, no, I can shoot, run, jump, swim, wres- 

t tTan fh,S the, ' e . aint n ° -ore' oper^music' lout 

me than there is m a hump-backed nen. Sav what's 

a way"!™: got USe "* f, ' eShneSS fOT "*"* ^ ^ 
i?-f '• t> Yo " may cal1 me Carl C1 Jde. 
n ■ i. ' that is not your real nam e? 
Dick. Maybe not, I may have a dozen names for that 



14 RICHARD; or, THE CRIMSOM CRESCENT. 

matter, but one is as good as another. What is your 
name? 

Kit Kittie Kenyon. 

Dick. What! Not California Kit, who is to box 
with a big tough they call Big Mouth Mose? 

Kit. The very same, you bet. Don't look like a 
Sullivan, do I? 

Dick. Indeed you don't. I have seen Mose and he 
is a tough — a regular brute I should sav. 

Kit. Ah! Is he? 

T>ick. Yes. I doubt if I could knock him down. 

Kit. So you aint much on the knock, I see. Well, 
that's no bad fault. For a person that don't know how 
to slug is less liable to go round with an eye in mourn- 
ing than one that's got a pile of conceit. 

Dick. Have you ever boxed much? 

Kit. Well I should hum. I knocked out Big Bul- 
lock at Shafer's Flats, two weeks ago, for $200 a side, 
and did it in two rounds at that. Oh, I am a little 
tough to fight. 

Dick.* How old are you? 

Kit. Now, look here. Aint that kind of an imperti- 
nent question to ask? Don't you know young ladies 
don't like to tell their age. If I should tell you I am 
only sweet sixteen, and in 15 years from now try to 
make out I am only 18 T then maybe you would be 
around to give me dead away. 

Dick. Well, you aint much over 16 any way. But 
I wish I could persuade you not to box with Mose. 

Kit You think he will do me. eh? 

Dick. I certainly do. 

Kit. You think he will spoil this pretty phiz of mine? 

Dick. He certainly will. 

Kit. And you would hate to see anything like that? 

Dick. I certainly would. 

Kit. Shake! I am with you on that: I don't want 
to have my face mashed into a jelly, for I expect to use 
it to catch i#millionaire with — when old Monte passes 
out. 

Dirk. Old Monte! Who is he? 

Kit Oh. lie is my old dad — the worst old bum you 
-aw in vour life* Yondl sec him around here be- 



•RICHARD; or, THE CRIMSON CRESCENT. 15 

fore the evening is out. He always takes whisky — 
when he can get it. 

Dick. Oh, I see; you are troubled with an intemper- 
ate parent that forces you to travel around and give 
boxing entertainments lo furnish him with money to 
buy whisky. 

Kit. Troubled! Forced! Well I guefes not. Do I 
look like a fresh young tenderfoot who would be troub- 
led or forced? Nixie! The old man goes it on his own 
hook and so do I, and as for Mose — I'll do him up in 
no time, you bet ! 

Dick. I am afraid you don't know your man. 

Kit. Well, I know my biz, and don't you forget it. 
Have you got any money to say I don't put him on his 
back in the first round? If so, I am at home and ready 
to entertain callers. 

Dick. Do you mean it? 

Kit. You bet! I am business every time, and my 
name is Gal. Kit. 

Dick. I haven't much money — just an even hundred 
but I'll wager it that you don't knock Mose out in the 
first round, if it busts me. 

Kit. Very well. Keep the money in your pocket, 
and here is my hundred — you are to be the stake-holder. 
Here is also a sum of money that I want you to make 
bets with. You will find plenty of takers, and you can 
give odds of 10 to 5 that I will win; all bets to be put 
up in good hands. You will excuse me now, as I will 
go for my supper. Don't hesitate, but do as I tell you, 
and you will find in Cal. Kit a friend worth having. 

[Exit Kit l 1 e. 

Diqk. Well, my first night in Bummer's Bar prom- 
ises to be an interesting one. But how 7 came I to be 
thrown in contact with this girl sport, Cal. Kit? Only 
time can answer that. 

[Enter Mose with money in hand l 1 e.] 

Mose. Here I am, the boss slugger of Bummer's Bar 
ready to bet big odds that I knock out the gal from 
'Frisco the first round. Who will come and see me? 
I'll bet a hundred to twenty-five that I knock the gal 
silly. 

Dick. Here vou are. I am ready to take a few bets 



16 RICHARD; or, THE CRIMSON CRESCENT/ 

like that and put the money up in good h^nds. 

Mose. Well, you'r my huckleberry. What's your 
name and what's your pile? 

Dick. My name is Carl Clyde, and I'll go you 500 
on the girl from 'Frisco, at the offer you make. 

Mose. What? 500? That's 2,000 agin your 500! 

Dick. You bet. 

Mose. I aint got but 1,000. Who will lend me a 
thousand? 

Paul. I'll back you for a thousand, if the money is 
put up in the hands of David H}'att. 

Mose. What do you say? Are you going to flunk? 

Dick. Narry a flunk, we don't do business that way. 
Will Mr. David Hyatt step this way? Remember gents, 
I have got a few hundred left, and I want to see it all 
up before the fun begins. Remember I don't want any 
odds hereafter — any sum from one dollar up to 700. 
Who will come and see me for a hundred. 

[Enter Budd in disguise l 1 e.] 

Budd. I'll take your full limit even, 3 r oung feller, 
you bet I'll go ye. My name is Bill Carney, alias Froz- 
en Bill, and if I get a chill just dose me up good with 
whisky and I'll be all right. I caught the ager in the 
army while handling a dead rebel's feet, and I aint got 
over it yet. How much money have you got young feller? 

Dick. $700 to bet that Kit wins. 

Budd. Put up the money and I'll shiver me shirt off 
if I don't jump it. 

Dick. Right you are. Here is my money Mr. Hyatt. 

Budd. And here is mine, Boss. 

Mose. Oh, I'll paralyze; her the first time I hit her. 

David. See here! Is this fight for a purse of money 
or for points? 

Mose. Oh, it's for points, I reckon. Old Duff got 
up the funeral, and I aint heard anything bout no purse. 

Duff. No, dose vellers fight ust for fun. 

David. Indeed. Does this girl come all the way 
from California just for the fun of fighting Big Mouthed 
Mose? 

Duff. Vel, no. Over she lick Mose, she vos got fifty 
tollar. Julius say she vas von goot veller mit der gloves. 

David. And suppose she don't lick Mose? 



RICHARD; or, THE CRIMSON CRESCENT. 17 

Duff. Vel, den she got nodings. 

David. This is shameful. No doubt the girl has 
been brought here under false pretenses, and whether 
she can fight or not, she will not go awaj' empty-hand- 
ed. I'll put up a purse of $100,and the winner takes it. 

Duff. Vel, Mr. Hyatt, as you vas so liberal, I vill do 
ust like you, und ve vill make it swei hundred dollar, 
ust to make der thing exciting. 

[Enter Julius followed by Kit r 3 e.] 

Julius. Gentlemen, I have the honor of presenting 
to your notice Miss California Kit. the champion girl 
boxer of California. She is the winner of twelve glove 
fights, and has never been defeated. She will spar with 
Mose Magone, best three in five, but she would like to 
have a friendly bout with some one, just to get her hand 
in before the match begins. Will some one step forward 

and put on the gloves with her. This is strange. 

Are all you burly miners afraid of this bit of a child? 
Miss Kit, do you see any one in the room you would 
like to haye a bout with? 

Kit. Yes, that gentleman over there, first, then with 
Mr. Duff. Oh, I mean you Mr. Clyde, you need not be 
afraid, I won't hurt you. 

Julius. No, Mr. Clyde, you cannot refuse, for 
this is to be a friendly bout, you know. 

Dick. All right, give me the gloves. 

Kit. Oh, take off your coat yon can't do an3'thing 
with it on. 

Dick. Why don't you take yours off then? 

Kit. Oh, I don't need to, I can fight with it on. 
[They put on gloves.] 

Kit. Now then, when you see a chance, let me have 
for all you are worth, and if you knock me down, I will 
give you half the profits. 

[She hits Dick on chest. Business.] 

Dick. Try it over and see if you can do it again, I 
recon I was going to sleep. 

Kit. If so I guess I'll wake you up. [Business. 

Dick. That is enough, I am no hog, I know when I 
get enough. 

Julius. Dutch Duff will now put on the gloves. 

Duff. You'r a liar. I don't vas put on der gloves for 



18 RICHARD: or, THE CRIMSON CRESCENT. 

nobody. 

Julius. Oh, yes, you will. 

Duff. Nix, not for Sbosepli. I vas no brize-v.W nnd 
1 know nodings about dot pisness. You will have to 
oxcuse me. 

Julius. Shall we excuse him, gentlemen? 

All. No, no, make him box. 

Flynn. If he don't box with the girl we will buy our 
whisky at the Horned Ace saloon. 

Mose. You bet, we will tear down the ranch ifTJutf 
don t box with the gal. 

Buff. I dells yon, yentlemens, I don't know how to 
box, I can t box, und I voiif, box. 

Mose. Look here, Dutch v— von know me' 

Duff Vel, I should smile, I 'vas know you a couple 
ot dimes. I vas know you for swei tollar 'whisky bill 

Mose. You lie! No >v look here, if you don't go urj 
and spar with the gal. I'll climb over this bar ami chaw 
oft your left ear. Do you b, 

D,l .ff- Yaw. I vas not deaf like a pi ind man V 
I box mit her, but over I get killed, I have von all ar- 
rested for murter in der first degre* 

[Business. Mi laugh at Duff] 

Duff. (Jh. laugh, stamp, skump— id dond vas make 
inemat i dond vas care over you vas Laugh your- 
neats off your tain necks. 

Kit. Oh, take it cool, Dutchy, aud don't get excited 
1 won t kill you but a couple of times, being it's you 
and you set 'em up so freely to-night when I asked 'you 
lor a drink, you remember, and you called me a 

Duff. You vont kill me only swei dimes? 
Kit. No more. 

Duff. Veil, over you hit me vonce, 1 haf you arrest- 
ed for salt and butter. I vill stand no monkey pisness 
und dond you forgot it. [Business.^ 

A >t Now then, square off and come at me. Be sure 
strike hard or you won't hurt me any. <)]„• two 
three, [and she knocks him down.] 
'Hits. Ready. Time. 
''■ Pv ehimminy. I kills you di- dim,.. 

titf si tt ess. 



RICHARD; or, THE CRIMSON CRESCENT. 19 

Kit. Now, gentlemen, if Mr. Moses will step this 
way, I will try to do better by him than I did by your 
German friend. 

Mose. Hoop la!' You'll find you aint got no baby 
to fool with now. 

David. This contest shall be awarded according to 
individual merit. 

Kit. That is all we want. To the winner belongs 
the spoils. 

Jvlius. Ready. Time. [Business. 

David. Pickpockets! — Guard the door and let no 
man escape from this room! I have been robbed not 
only of the stakes I held, but also of my pocketbook 
which had a thousand dollar bill in it. Where is the 
man who went through my pockets? 

Dick. I reckon the man that took the money with- 
out your knowing it, was sharp enough to get away 
with it. 

David. Indeed? Well, one would infer from your 
words that you suspect I had a hand in the disappear- 
ance of the money. 

Paul. Of course that is what he means. If I were 
you, I would not take such an insult from the young 
whelp. 

Dick. Who's a whelp? 

Paul. You are, and I don't like the cut of your jib. 
It's plain to see that you and the girl are a pair of 
sharps and stand in together. 

David. That has nothing to do with the money. 
The main point is to find out who robbed me. I don't 
propose to lose a thousand dollars and not know who 
got it. 

Dick. Well, I am a loser of 39 hundred dollars, or, 
rather Cal. Kit is, for it was her money I was betting. 

David. Who said you was not? But you seem to 
think 1 had a hand in the robbery. 

Dick. Nothing of the sort. 1 don't think you would 
pick a man's pocket any sooner than I would. 

Biidd. Look here, boss, may a frozen ager stricken 
ice berg 'bout my size have a word to say? 

David. Yes. if you can throw any light on the sub- 
ject, o'o on. 



20 RICHARD; or, THE CRIMSON CRESCENT. 

Budd. Correct boss, 'taint much, only a suspicion, 
you see. 

David. Out with it then. Who do you think took the 
money. 

Budd. Well, you see boss, the young feller on the 
barrel might of stole the money and packed it in that 
ar barrel till he could steal it out and get away with it. 
If you search the boy I think you'll find your boodle. 

David. Will you let us search you, young man? 

Dick. No sir. 

David. Oh, you won't, eh? 

Dick. No, I will not! I am no thief and I won't 
stand it to be searched like one. 

David. We'll see about that — seize him boys. 

Paul. So we caught you. eh? You thought you would 
escape with the money did you? 

David. Bind him. boys. [Business.] Stand aside 
and we shall soon see if he is guilty. Ah, he has money 
in his pocket. 

Dick. That is mine, I wagered it with Kit, and she 
won it. Give it to her. 

Kit. Yes. he did, so let me have it, Mr. Hyatfc 

David. I'll attend to that and take my own time 
about doing it. too. I am going to have the money I 
was robbed of, or make some one sweat for it. 

Dick. Well, I aint got it, so let me go. 

Budd. See if he stuffed it inter the barrel, boss. 

Paul. Just my idea. He looks like a chap as would 
steal things and hide 'em away. 

Dick. I'll steal you when I get loose. 

Paul Oh, you will eh? (then pulls Dick's ear.) 

Kit. Take that, you villain! Any one that will 
abuse a poor helpless prisoner ought to be killed two or 
three times every ten minutes. 

Paul. Never mind, my dear, I'll get even with you 
for that. You'll find I aint a man to be insulted with 
impunity. 

Kit. Oh, aint you, I thought you was You go and 
pull Carl Clyde's ear again, and I think you will change 
your mind. 

David. Break open the barrel and if the money aint 
in it the boy aint guilty, for he aint got it about his 



RICHARD; or, THE CRIMSON CRESCENT. 21 

clothes. Break open, -the barrel, I say. 

Duff. Look here, poys, over you preak dot parrel, 
you vas got to bay vor it, und don't you forgot dot. Dot 
parrel vas mine. 

Flynn. See here, dutchy, lock up yer jaw, or I'll 
sick the girl on you. 

All. The money! The money! 

David. Yes, the money. And Frozen Bill was right 
after all. So the boy is the thief. 

Dick. I did not take the money — I swear it by all 1 
hold sacred. A job has been put up on me, and I think 
the man that calls himself Frozen Bill put the money 
in the barrel. 

Paul. That's too thin. 

Bvdd. Of course it is. That won't work, young 
fellow. 

Paul. Come on boys, let's string the young cuss up. 

AIL Yes, string him up! 

Paul. I tell you, boys, he stole the money and hid it 
in the barrel, just as Frozen Bill said, and it's plain to 
me that the gal knew all about the stealing, and she too 
ought to be hung along with him, for they are as slick 
a pair of kids as you will find in a year's travel. 

David. I quite a^ree with you, and by the rules of 
this camp they must be punished. But we must give 
them a trial, so as not to go contrary to the law. 
Therefore, I will select a jury of three men, and I will 
act in behalf of the people of Bummer's Bar as prose 
cuting counsel. If the prisoners are found guilty, the 
stakes I hold shall go towards building a jail in this 
town. Are you agreed, boys? 

All. Yes. 

David. Then seize the girl and bind her too. [Bus 
mess.] Now for the trial — but we have no Judge. 

Byron. If it's a judge you want, feller galoots, allow 
me to inform ye that the famous Judge Lynch has arriv 
in town, and would be pleased to assist you on this oc 
casion. 

David. I will select Mr. Flynn, Mr. Duffy and Mr. 
Jones to act as jurymen. 

Byron. Yes, feller galoots, I'm the original Judge 
Lynch, and don't you forget it, and if you want your 



22 RICHARD; or, THE CRIMSON CRESCENT. 

pie-nic to go" off in first-class style, just 'pint me judge 
of the ceremonies and there won't be a hitch or a balk. 
I am Lynch that's the Judge, and I'm some on the 
budge; I' m nigh all in a quiver, but I'll send that air 
lad to a place warm and bad— Judge Lynclvs head- 
quarters — Salt river. 

Paul. Hurrah! First rate! Shall we appoint him 
Judge on this occasion? You can. see he's the stuff. 

All Yes he's the stuff. [Business. 

/Jar id. Citizens of Bummers' Bar: We have before 
119 two persons who tried to rob and defraud us, the 
names of th<^ persons have been given as Carl Clyde 
and Cai. Kit. or, in other words, Kit tie Kenvon. The 
young man is charged with picking my pockets and 
taking a roll of bills, and my wallet, which contained a 
thousand dollar bill in it. It appears that the boy and 
girl came to town about the same time, and are here for 
the purpose of making money. The boy, after leaving 
the stage, came and stood near me a few minutes, and 
afterwards went and si! on the barrel that the money- 
was found in. I felt the money in mv pocket just lie- 
fore he left the stage. Now I will leave the case to the 
honorable Judge and >)i\v\\ 

Byron. The prisoners have no counsel. 

David. No, and they don't need /any. As judge of 
the court, you have the questioning power. 

Byron. CarlClyde, arise. Prisoner at the bar, is 
your name ( 'arl ( lyde? 

Dick. No, sin 

Byron. What is it then? 

Dick. Richard Bristol. 

Byron. Did you say von were Carl Clyde since vou 
were in Bummers' Bar?' 

Dick: I did. 

Byron. What for? 

Dick. Because I choose to. 

Byron. Thunder, boy; did vou steal the motfey? 

Dick. No, sir. I did not, 

Uyron. Did you ever steal? . 

Dick. Never. 

Byron. How came \\w money in the barrel? 

Dick. I don't know— I have no idea. 



RICHARD; or, THE CRIMSON CRESCENT. 23 

Byron. Did you stand near Mr. Hyatt? 

Dick. For a minute, I did. 

Byron. Were not you and Cal. Kit trying to get* the 
money? Are you not friends? 

Dick. No, sir. I never saw or heard of her before to^ 
night. 

Byron. What is your business? 

Dick. I have none just now, except I have been on a 
prospecting trip and looking for business. 

Byron. Sit down. Kittie Kenyon, arise. What is 
your name? 

Kit. Kittie Kenyon. 

Byron. Where do you live? 

Kit. Wherever night overtakes me. 

■Byron. What is your business? 

Kit. Knocking out would-be sluggers, and tending ; 
to my own business. 

Byron. What do you know about this case? 

Kit. Nothing: and I'll bet Dick did not have a finger 
in stealing the money — he's not that kind of catnip. 

Byron. Did you ever know him before to night? 

Kit Nixee — no more than he ever heard of me. 

Byron. Who do you think stole the money? 

Kit. I reckon his whiskers yonder, that calls him- 
self Frozen Bill knows all about the money. 

Byron. What makes you think so? 

Kit. Because he was the first one to know where it 
was. 

Byron. Frozen Bill, take the stand. 

Budd. What do you want of me? 

Byron. What do you know about the robbery? 

Budd. Nothing. 

Byron. Did you see Richard Bristol near Hyatt? 

Budd. Yes; and so did others. 

Byron. Say yes, sir, to this court. 

Budd. Yes, sir, 

Byron. Did you see the boy steal the money? 

Budd. N-no — I mean no, sir. 

Byron. How come vou to think the money was in the 
barrel? 

Budd. It just dropped into my head, sir. 

Byron, Did you stand near Mr. Hyatt at any time 



24 RICHARD; or, THE CRIMSON CRESCENT. 

while the boxing was going on? 

Budd. No sir. 

Byron. Are you a stranger in this camp? 

Budd. Yes. I am from away up in Washington ter- 
ritory, where it's cold enough to freeze a man in the 
Summer time. 

Byron. Your name is Frozen Bill, is it? 

Budd. Yes, you bet — I mean yes sir. 

Byron. And what is your last name? 

Budd. My name is BilJ Buck. 

Byron. Vey well, Buck, sit down. 

Budd. Yes sir. 

"Byron. Gentlemen of the Jury: I have questioned 
as far us I see lit, and I'll be chewed up by catamounts 
and snizzled at by snakes if I can see any evidence 
^ again the prisoners. 

[Business. — exit jury and re-enter .r 1 e.] 

Byron. Gentlemen of the Jury: Have you arriv at 
r verdic 

Fiynn. Your Honer: We have found the prisoners 
guilty. 

David. Then I, as chief of the law and order and 
vigilance committee of Bummers Bar do hereby— 

Byron. Sit down! Down with ve! I am running 
this court, if the court knows herself, and if there is anv 
sentencing to be done, I'll pretty nigh take care of that 
job myself. 

David. You haye nothing to do with that, 

Byron. Them prisoners aint done anything to be 
lynched for, and they aint going to be lynched. Prison- 
ers: \ ou have been found guilty, and will have to be 
punished. So I'll sentence you to be put on a raft. and 
sent down the river, and if you don't get spilt off, you'll 
be a long ways from here when you are rescued; and, if 
you ever come back to Bummer's Bar, vou will be burned 
at the stake, regular Indian fashion. Now, I'll leave it 
to the crowd, if that aint a hard enough sentence for 
the lads, since the boodle's been found. 

David. I am satisfied men, let a raft be rigged and 
set them afloat. && 

( David gets up and starts off r.) 
Dick. Stop, Day id Hyatt! Hear me before you go. 



RICHARD; or, THE CRIMSON CRESCENT. 25 

You think you are doing justice, but you are not; I did 
not steal the money, and Kit is innocent also. I'll take 
the trip alone, but do not send Kit adrift. 

David. You both go together. [Exit and rig raft. 

Kit. Do you think we can live through it, Dick? 

Dick. Doubtful. The stream is rough and swift: 
but if we do — 

Kit. What then, Dick? 

Dick. Vengeance -is mine. 

Kit. Bravo! And count me in. 

Dick. -Right you are. I would that my hands were 
free that I could grasp yours. 

Kit. True. I am glad the sentence is no worse, for 
something tells me we will come out all right. How 
lucky that Judge Ljnch passed the sentence. 

Dick. How so? 

Kit. Because he favored us. You remember me 
speaking of old Monte? 

Dick. Yes. 

Kit. Well, old Monte and Judge Lynch are one and 
the same. 

Dick. The deuce you say? 

Kit. You bet. Monte walked in and found us in 
trouble and took the best way of getting us out he could 
think of. He knew it would not do to try to ctear us. 
so you see by the sentence he thinks we can get free. 
Oh, Monte's a brick. 

Dick. I should say so. And you are really his dau- 
ghter? 

Kit. Weil, no. We only pass off as father and dau- 
ghter. I met him about a year ago. He was near dead 
with the jims; I nursed him through, and we have stuck 
together ever since. 

[Enter Paul, David, Budd and Fiynn r 2 e.] 

Paul. Yank ahold of them, boys, we will give them 
a ride on a river that's worse than Salt river. [Business. 

Dick. Beware, men of Bummers' Bar, for the curse 
of the new Dead wood Dick is upon you ! I shall lWe 
for revenge, so tremble when you see the sign of the 
Crimson Crescent, for you have aroused my deepest 
anger and hatred. 



26 RICHARD; ok, THE CRIMSON CRESCENT. 

ACT III. 
• SCENE FIRST.— [Business.] 

Duff. Shendlemens, did you send der young devil 
away? 

All. We did, you bet. 

Duff. Dot vas goodt, very sjoodt. It vos vet. oudt 
sidt? 

All. Awful wet. 

Duff. Yaw, dot vas so. But vile it vas vet oudsidt, 
dis vas der blace for beeples to go vat vas dry. [D*'# 
takes a drink.] 

[Enter Paul and Budd \. 1 E.] 

Paul. Duff, give us all a drink. [After drink-inn. 
Paul and Budd sit down fit table.] 

Budd, Well, here we are, what do you want? 

Paul. I want to talk with yon. You don't know me 
it seems? 

Budd. How should I know you. when I know no one 
this far south? 

Paul. Ob, give us ;i rest on t hat - it wo;/t work — 
you *re not from Washington territory, any more than 
i am. 

Budd. You lie! 

Paul. Look out — don't get too tongney, or I'll give 
you away. 

}i(i(ld. What do you mean? 

Paul I mean that I know you and your past from 
the time you married Alice Paulding until to-night; 
Your name is not Frozen Bill. 

Jin (Id. Who the devil are you? 

Paul. Paul Potter, formerly of Boston. 

Budd. Oh. you — 

Paul. Married your wife after you deserted \\w. Of 
course I did not know it until after I sounded into the 
past life of Alice Anna Paulding; then I found that she 
had been married to you before 1 knew her. and that 
you had left her. and she had pnl the child in the poor 

house. 

Budd. We never had a child of our own. 

Paul. Oh, I am aware of that. It whs understood 
that the child had been adopted by you. hoping to make 
money out of it, ;is the parent was wealthy; but before 



RICHARD; or. THE CRIMSON CRESCENT. 

you got ready to spring your trap, however, the parent 
failed for all he was worth, and it had been supposed 
his child was drowned. He left Boston for good; you 
had the child'* left on your hands: you and 3*011 r wife 
had a quarrel, and you skipped out. 

Budd. Well, you know too much. What else have 
you been smart enough to learn. 

Paul. Oh, lots more. 

Budd. Well, what of it? What do you want — what 
do you expect? 

Paul. I'll tell you. You are a shrewd fellow, and as 
bi^ a rascal as ever lived. You are here for a purpose, 
Budd Bristol and that purpose has been accomplished. 

Budd. Hush! Don't utter that name again. I 
wouldn't have it known I was ever here for all the Nio- 
brara ranch is worth. 

Paul. I don't know about tbat. the ranch is worth 
two hundred thousand at the least. 

Budd. Perhaps. But go on. What do you mean by 
me accomplishing my purpose? 

Paul. Why. you done that when you laid the steal- 
ing to young Bristol. Oh, I am a daisy, Budd, Y have 
been watching you for some time. You have played a 
strong game and may win yet. 

Budd. You think you have me in your power, eh? 

Paul. I suppose I have. But did not think of that 
— no that aint my lay out at all. I know there are a 
few obstacles between you and the Niobrara property— 
your brother's son was one. 

Wudd. Do you think he is effectually disposed of? 

Paul. Yes. That raft could not live L5 minutes on 
Reese river, and they will both be drowned. 

Budd. I hope so. 

Paul. But another obstacle was your wife — you set- 
tled her —she is dead. 

Wudd. Curse you, how do you know? 

Paul. Because 1 do. 1 know where the hov buried 
her. 

Wudd. Then is there, any other obstacle? 

Paul. Yes. Byron Bristol. 

Budd. Bah. No trace of him can be found. I'm I 
have had men hunting for him (or vears. 



^8 RICHARD; or, THE CRIMSON CRESCENT. 

Paul. There are few things so easy to make — as a 
mistake. I, too, have been on the lookout for Byron 
Bristol, and know that he was alive and in Shaffer's 
Flats two weeks ago. • 

Budd. Then — 

Paul* Hold on, don't get excited now, let me talk. 
He has lost his mind from drinking and has forgotten 
his own name. I expect him here any da} 7 , as he is 
working this way. So it will be to your interest to re- 
main in Bummers' Bar. And when he is out of the 
way, the Niobrara ranch is yours. 

Budd. True: and then I may naturally suppose you 
will try to bleed me. 

Paul. No, I have no intention of anything of the 
sort. I have no objections to telling you, however, that 
I am in for making a haul, and want the assistance of 
a villain of your fire-proof calibre. 

Budd. Oh, well, let's hear from you. You are 
shrewd enough yourself, so I fail to see what you would 
want with my assistance. 

Paul. Well, two of a kind beat a single, you know, 
whether it is an ace or a six spot. 

Budd. Yes. 

Paul. Well, listen, and I will give you an outline. 
We will go back to Boston, years ago, when you were 
wedded to Alice Anna Paulding. 

Budd. Bah. To the devil with the woman. What 
has she got to do with the case? 

Paul. Steady now. You shall learn how as we pro- 
gress. You and Anna were married young: you had a 
position in the employ of a wealthy young blood named 
Hollis — you were his valet. 

Budd. Well, go on. 

Paul. Hollis knew nothing in particular about you 
— not even that you were married, and you went under 
the assumed name of Joe Ferris. 

Budd. Correct. 

Paul Well, you stayed with Hollis for awhile, but 
finally he caught you in his private office, and he dis- 
charged you. This treatment aroused the villain in 
your nature, and, partly out of revenge, and partly with 
a yiew of extorting money you stole his little child and 



RICHARD; or, THE CRIMSON CRESCENT. 29 

adopted it for the time being. A dead child was seen 
floating in the Charles river and answered to the de- 
scription of Hollis's, but the body was not recovered 
and the parents finally gave up search and mourned 
their child as dead. The loss of the child killed Mrs. 
Hollis. Shortly afterwards, Hollis made an assignment 
and left for parts unknown. You quarreled with your 
wife, and left her. She put the child in the poorhouse. 
and a year later I married her in Providence. Finally 
we parted — she went her way and I went mine. 

Budd. Well, what are you driving at? 

Paul. You shall see. The Hollis child remained in 
the poor house, but finally was recognized by a former 
nurse. The matter was then investigated, and at last 
the facts all came out, and made a great sensation. The 
nurse gol the child by promising to devote her life in 
searching for its father, whose whereabouts was un- 
known. A search was made for you and you had to 
skip out. But previous to this discovery Anna had me 
jugged for desertion. When I got out I learned all 
about her previous marriage with yon, and v*hen the 
child's case was made public, I resolved to keep track 
of it — and I have ever since, and also of you and Anna, 
believing some day I would strike a bonanza. It was in 
this way I came to know so much about your other mat- 
ters. 

Budd. But about the child? 

Paul. Well, armed with proofs of the child's identity 
Phillis Penrose, the nurse, wandered far and wide with 
the child in search of Henry Hollis — Heaven only knows 
where they did not go — finally, when the girl was twelve 
years old, Phyllis, who was saving and had got a sum 
of money, put her protege in a Seminary in 'Frisco to 
be educated, and continued her search alone. The girl 
only stayed in school two years, then ran away and was 
lost all track of — eyen Phyllis could not find her. but 
she kept on, and — 

Budd. Go on: I am interested. 

Paul. Are you ? 

Budd. You bet. Much you have told me is news. 

Paul. Indeed. Well, Phyllis Penrose arrived in 
Bummers' Bar by stage to-night. 



30 RICHARD; or, THE CRIMSON CRESCENT. 

Budd. Ho, ho! 

Paul I tell you, I am on a hot trail, and if I am 
not wrong, her former protege, Rolla Hollis, came in on 
the same stage, and is now enjoying a voyage down 
Reese river with young Bristol. 
Budd. What— not CM. Kit? 
Paul. Yes, you bet. 
Buhl. What makes you think so? 
Paul A discovery. * In dragging the girl to the 
raff her sleeve became pulled above her elbow and ex- 
posed her bare arm— and what do yo think I saw? 
Budd. How should I know? 

Paul I saw a crimson crescent upon her arm, about 
the size of a silver dollar. 

Budd. And the boy warned us to beware of the sign 
of the crimson crescent? 
Paul. Yes, I remember. 

Budd. I remember now. Upon the arm of Henry 
Hollis's child was a birth mark. It was a vivid crim- 
son crescent. 

Paul. Just so. ,i-i 

Budd. Then there is no doubt but what the girl 
boxer is Henry Hollis's child. 

Paul. Or 'was, rather, for I am confident stu 
drowned If so, all my long searching and scheming 
baffled when I had begun to hope I was one the route to 
a fortune. 

Budd. How so? 

Paul. I'll explain. It has been only* a tew months 
since I discovered the whereabouts of Henry Hollis. 
Budd. The deuce you say! 
Paul No; Henry Hollis. 
Budd. Where is he? 
Paul. Right here in Bummers' Bar. 
Budd. Great Julius Caesar! 
Paul. No; Henry Hollis. 
Budd, Still poor? , 

Paul. Nixy -worth half a million if a cent. You 

saw him to-night. 

Budd. No! ._ „ .. 

Paul. I say you did. The man called David Hyatt 
and Henry Hollis are one and the same. 



RICHARD; or, THE CRIMSON CRESCENT. 31 

Budd. By thunder, I believe you are right. 

Paul. I know I am right — I have satisfied myself 
on that point. And now, can you stand another stun- 
ner? 

Budd. Yes: bang ahead. 

Paul. Well, Hyatt, or Hollis, rather, is married — 
and his wife is Mrs. Alice Anna Paulding Bristol Potter 
Hollis. 

Budd. What! She here and married to Henry Hol- 
lis? — Why, that seems hardly credible! 

Paul. It's a fact, just as hard, and don't you forget 
it. I know it to be so, for I have personally interviewed 
her ladyship — and she introduced me to him as her 
brother. 

Budd. Well Til swear! 

Paid. Now, I want you to join me in making a big- 
haul. If we win, you get half —if we fail, we can skip. 

Budd. How do you intend to work it? 

Paul. Well, I have learned that Hyatt has got a 
quarter of a million in cash; don't know just where it is, 
but have found out that it is in this camp. 

Budd. Don't Anna know where it is? 

Paul. Yes, but she won't tell anything about it, for 
she worships him. 

Budd. Worships him, eh? 

Paul. Yes. 

Budd. But she could be worked under threat of 
exposure. 

Paid. True. But we can bleed Hj^att first on the 
girl question, and then Anna will disgorge handsomely 
rather than be exposed. 

Budd. Ha, ha, you bet we will make Hyatt's fortune 
look sick. 

Paul. I should smile. But if we had the girl we 
could get more money out of Hyatt. But that raft could 
not live a mile on Reese river, and I know they are both 
drowned long ere this. 

Budd. I hope the boy is anyhow. Cure him, I have 
hunted him ever since his mother left me and joined 
him. We searched high and low for a whole month but 
he finally got away. 

PauL It's lucky you came here in disguise, for the 



32 RICHARD; or, THE CRIMSON CRESCENT. 

kid would have killed you on sight. 

Budd. But how did you know me? 

Paul. I knew you were coming here — it matters not 
how, but I dropped to you when you suggested he stole 
the money. I saw you pick Hyatt's pocket and slip the 
money into the barrel. 

Budd. I believe you lie. 

Paul. Not a bit of it. Now we have talked long 
enough here so we will go to my room at the Hotel. 

Budd. All right, let's have a drink first. 
[exit Paul and Budd. — Close in with parlor in £d groove.] 

SCENE SECOND.— Enter David c. n. takes seat at 
table. 

David. I wonder why I can't get that matter off my 
mind — it seems to haunt me like some grim phantom. 
They may not be guilty after all, and if not I am res- 
ponsible for two lives. I wish now that I had heeded 
the lad's request and spared the girl. [David gets up 
and ivalks back and forth across stage.] I cannot stand 
this — it seems as if I had committed a terrible crime, 
and a feeling of guilt comes oyer me. Oh. what have I 
done — consigned two human beings to a watery grave. 
Great Heavens, what have I done? The past rushes 
back upon me with sickening effect. I fancy I see my 
own child drowning in the river — she who I have so 
long mourned as dead. What brings to me these 
strange thoughts? Can there be a possibility that she 
is my daughter? Something tells me I must £0 and try 
to rescue her. [Exit c. d. 



SCENE THIRD.— Business. 

Byron. Let me np! Let me up I tell you or by the 
powers I'll cut your hearts out and trample them under 
foot! Release me until I hunt down my bitter foe, for 
I know he is in this very building, and I'll have his life's 
blood for the wrongs he has done me. Oh, curse ye! 
Curse you all! I see it all now — when it is too late. 
My poor, long lost boy has gone down the river to des- 
truction, and who sent him there? It was not me — his 
father — no, no, it was you scullions who live in Bummers' 
Bar, 3'ou sent my two babies to death, and I shall hold 



RICHARD; or, THE CRIMSON CRESCENT. 33 

you responsible; and you,- David Hyatt, were the chief 
cause of their death. You! You!! You!!! 

David. What is the matter with him? 

Flynn. You see, boss, it's a case of the trimbles. He 
took a fit and seized Mose and choked him to death, 
and we lassoed and bound him as you see. 

David. Yes, he has a bad case of tremens. But if 
he had a few drinks he would be all right, I think. 

Flynn. That's what I told the boys, boss. Shall I 
fetch some of the bug juice? 

David. Yes. The poor man is suffering no doubt 
for liquor, and I will do what I can for him, for I think 
he will be of some use to me. 

Duff. But he vas kill Pig Mose und he got no monej'. 

David. Small loss to the camp, and besides he is 
crazy, and is not responsible for what he does. Bring 
the liquor, I will pay for it. Do you feel better now? 

Byron. Yes, they have gone but they will soon re- 
turn if I don't have liquor. But let me go; set me free, 
for I must go in search of my boy, niy brave, handsome 
boy. Set me free, I say, till I search for him. 

David. Who do you mean? Who is your boy — not 
the dare-devil who robbed me? 

Byron. He did not rob you. It was not him ; it was 
his enemy, and my enemy, who was in this room to-night. 
I heard his voice and then my memory, which has long 
been clouded, came slowly back. But not until after 
my poor boy had been sent to destruction in company 
with my ward, Kittie. Oh, set me free, I say, until I 
go in search of them. 

David. It will be useless for you to search for them, 
for they are no doubt drowned long ago. But you spoke 
of the girl as your ward; have you two been trayeling 
together? 

Byron. For about a year. She found me dying in the 
mountains and nursed me back to life, and since that 
time we have wandered about together. She was a 
daughter to me and for years has been searching' for a 
friend whom she had lost all track of. But the boy; my 
boy, great Heavens, can it be that after all these years 
of searching I have found him, only to lose him again? 
No, no, he still lives and I must find him, and together 



34 RICHARD; or, THE CRIMSON CRESCENT. 

we will unite in striking down the infernal villain who 
has been the cause of my ruin — body and soul. Fie is 
in this very camp, for I heard his voice to-night, even 
though he did not recognize me. Release me, I say, for 
I must find my boy. 

David. Poor fellow, your mind is wandering again, 
but you must be quiet for the present. 

Byron. No, my mind is not wandering, but is as 
clear as your own. The memory of the past has at last 
returned to me, after all these years, and I see plainly 
my line of duty. I must find "my boy, for something 
tells me he is not dead, but is searching for his mis- 
guided and Cain-cursed father. For the love of God 
do not detain me longer, but let me go. 

David. You speak like one who had known better 
days, sir. 

Byron. Yes, I was once comparatively a rich man, 
but drink conquered me and was the curse of my life- 
then something happened that severed me from those 
who were near and dear to me, and I became a wanderer 
upon the face of the earth. 

David. But what assurance have you that the boy 
who was sent down the river is your son? 

Byron. Did he not state that his name was Richard 
Bristol? 

David. I believe he did. although he first called him- 
self Carl Clyde 

Byron. Well. Richard Bristol was the name of my 
infant son I left in Nebraska years ago, and there can he 
no doubt but what that young man is my own son — mv 
wry heart tells me so, and also that he did not perish 
in the river to-night. 

David I hope that neither the boy nor the girl per- 
ished, but 1 fear it is hoping against hope. I will re- 
lease you if you will go with me to mv home ami accept 
of some refreshments and better clothing; then if yon 
wish to go, you will be at liberty to do so.' Will you <><> 
with me? 

Byron. I \y\\\, with pleasure. [Close in with street 
in 1st groove,— Enter David and Byron, walk across 
slowly, — Business. 



RICHARD; or, THE CRIMSON CRESCENT. 35 

. SCENE FOURTH.— Parlor in 2d groove.— David 
and Byron seated at table with refreshments. 

David. Now, I want you to answer a few questions, 
for they concern me much, and I have no doubt you can 
throw some light upon the subject. 

Byron. I will gladly give you an}' information in my 
power, sir. What do you wish to know? 

David. Tell me all you know about the girl, Dal. Kit. 

Byron. That is not very much. As I have told you 
we ran across each other about a year ago. and she 
nursed me over a siege of the jams. Since that time w r e 
have roved about together from camp to camp, wliere 
the girl has given sparring exhibitions, and I have 
managed to eke out a living at the Monte game. 

•David. Where did the girl acquire her pugilistic art. 

Byron. In 'Frisco, at school, I believe; but she ran 
away from school to search after a companion — an 
elderly spinster who had reared her from infancy, but 
not finding the spinster, and being so clever at using 
her lists she resolved to make a living by sparring, and 
has not found the spinster up to date. 

David. Has she no idea what became of this spinster? 

Byron. No. Only that the spinster has been search- 
ing for years for a man who has been lost from her. 

David. Do you know the name of the man she has 
been searching for? 

Byron. I do not. Hut he is the father of the girl, 
Cal. Kit. 

David, Then, by Heaven, I have not been in error 
after all, for the impression that came upon me after 
they were sent down the river, bids fair to become real- 
ized. Speak quick ! — Do you know this spinster's name? 

'Byron. Yes. I never forgot it; her name is Phillis 
Penrose. 

David. Phillis Penrose! Then I too am a sufferer 
by this accursed night's work, for the girl upon the raft 
with your son was my long lost daughter. Tell me, did 
you ever see a birth mark on her arm? 

Byron. Yes, I have been shown it many a time. It 
was a vivid Crimson Crescent. 

CURTAIN. 



36 RICHARD; or, THE CRIMSON CRESCENT. 

ACT IV, 

SCENE FIRST.— Wood in first groove.— Enter 
Budd and Pauljrom left and walk to c of stage. 

Budd. I wish I knew if the boy was really drowned. 
Pve got a sort of misgiving that he aint, and will give 
me a dig in the back when I don't expect it. He is a 
vengeful young whelp and aint none too good to do it. 

Paul. Pshaw! You aint getting afraid, are you? If 
you are, we might as well throw up the job and done 
with it. 

Budd. No, I aint getting afraid, only it aint a very 
pleasant thing not knowing what minute may be your 
last. Let's go into this tool house out of the wet; 

[Business. 

Paul. The boy is miles from here, floating in the 
river, Til guarantee, and the girl too. It's a cussed un- 
fortunate thing she was not kept off the raft. If I had 
been positive as to her identity, I would have kept her 
off, too. As it is, our only show is to work the money 
out of Henry Hollis on the strength of promises. 

Budd. I have some doubt about the matter. 

Paul. I haven't. He'd be crazy to get some tidings 
of her, and he will doe over liberal in advance, thinking 
lie may find his lost daughter. Our lay out is to work 
Anna first and make her disgorge, which we can do 
without doubt. She is fairly in our power, and, as she 
thinks so much of Hyatt, she won't give him up just to 
save a little of his boodle. You leave her to me and I 
will work what money away from her that is worth 
working. 

Budd. Sh — listen. 

Paul. What for? 

Budd. I thought I heard a groan. 

Paul. Pooh? It was only the wind. I believe you 
are getting to be a coward after all. 

Budd. Nonsense. I tell you I heard the moan of a 
human voice. Listen a few minutes, anyhow — ah! 
there, did you hear that! There is some one in here — 
have you got a match? 

Paul. No. 

Budd. Never mind I've got one. 

Paul. The girl ! The girl ! 



RICHARD; or, THE CRIMSON CRESCENT. 37 

Budd. True as thunder! How, in the name of com- 
mon sense, did she come to be here, though? 

Paul. No doubt she was rescued and brought here 
for dead or to recover consciousness. If the boy 
brought hei here, the young whelp may be back here at 
any time, and it's high time we were getting out of this. 

Budd. Who's getting afraid now? I agree with you 
however, that it might not be healthy for us to be found 
around here — but we must take the girl. 

Paul Certainly. She is a prize too precious to lose 
now that she is in our power. 

Budd. Where shall we take her? She must be hid- 
den, for the boy will search for her, if it was he who 
rescued her. 

Paul. There is no safe hiding place around here, ex- 
cept in Dutch Duff's cellar, to which there is a back 
outside door. You remain on guard, and don't hesitate 
to use your pops if any one comes this way. I can bribe 
Duff to help us out, for a hundred dollars. Have you 
got that much? 

Budd. I suppose so. Here it is, but mind you, I 
am to get half we make out of the girl. 

Paul. Of course. You will find me square with a 
pal. [Exit Paul r 2 e. 

Budd. Well, now is my chance to fix the boy, if he 
comes after the girl, for I am sure it was he who 
brought her here. [Enter Paul r 2 e. 

Paul. Well, I saw Duff, and he is solid, so let's take 
the girl to the cellar. [Business. 



SCENE SECOND.— Street in first groove.— Enter 
David Jollowed by Byron. 

David. Well, we will get two horses and be off down 
the river in search of our long lost children. 

Byron. Very well, let's be quick about it. 



SCENE THIRD. — Wood or landscape in second 
groove and Mose leaned against scene dead. — Enter 
Flynn and Jurymen, all branded. -^Enten Budd and 
Paul. 

Budd. This is bad business, and had we not kept 
ourselves shady during the night, we would have been 



38 RICHARD; or, THE CRIMSON CRESCENT, 

branded too. The boy is laying around somewhere hi- 
ding, and if we don't look out he will single us out as 
his next victims. 

Paul. The outlook aint quite so pleasant as it was 
I'll admit. I think we had better close up our business 
as soon as we can and get out of the place. 

Budd. But what can we do before Hollis and Byron 
return? 

Paul. We can go and see Hollis' wife, now is our 
best chance. 

Budd. But if we leave here some one may find the 
girl, or Duff may betray us. 

Paul. Not much danger of that I guess. Duff can 
be depended upon to hold his tongue. I have found 
him more discreet than you would suppose. If we want 
to work Anna for any money now is the time, while her 
husband is away. 

Budd. Well, may be you are right, but if the girl 
gets away our goose is cooked. Anyhow, go ahead and 
we will try the job. 

Close in by street. — Enter Paul and Budd lIe and 
go across very slow. Clear stage and Jix parlor in 3d 
groove. — Anna seated at table reading. — Enter Paul 
and Budd c d. — Re-open showing parlor with window 
at one side of c d. 

Anna. Sir, what is the meaning of this intrusion? 

Paul. It means that if you attempt to raise a noise 
I'll blow your brains out. We are here on business, 
and thought we would call while your dear David was 
away and no one around. Sit down, Anna. 

Anna. What do you want? 

Paul Money. Do you know this man? 

Anna. I do not, and I bid you both leave me, or I 
will scream for help. 

Paul. Do not try it if you value your life, for as sure 
as you do, I will shoot. I am not to be trifled with to- 
day — nor is my companion. We are here on the make, 
and intend to win. You say you dotiot know this man, 
but I know you do. Do 3^011 not remember your first 
husband, Budd Bristol, alias JoeFerris?(s/*e starts back) 
Ah, I see by your start that you do. Well, this man is 
he, and he has the papers to prove it. I also married 



RICHARD; or, THE CRIMSON CRESCENT, 39 

you years ago, and I too, have the documents to prove 
it; and now you are, without ever being divorced, mar- 
ried to David Hyatt, alias Henry Hollis, whose child 
your first husband stole, and you and he kept secreted 
until you separated, then you put the child in the poor- 
house. 

Anna. It is false, utterly false. I — 

Paul. Nonsense, you are guilty of bigamy twice over 
and we can prove it. Now if you wish to save yourself, 
we have come to give you a chance. We must get out 
of this camp in double quick order, but we don't pro- 
pose to go without money. 

Budd. Nary a time. You have led a crooked life, 
but we are both willing to forgive you, and let Hollis 
have you, if you come down with a boodle of decent 
size, and if you don't, we shall expose your whole career 
to Hank Hollis, and he will give you the grand shake. 

Paul. Yes, and we won't only do that, but we will 
produce the girl you stole from him and the proofs that 
you put her in the poor-house. There now you might 
as well come to time for we have got the drop on you, 
and your only salvation is to pony up. 

Anna. You have come here on a fool's errand, if you 
expected to frighten money out of me, for I have not a 
dollar in money in my possession — and if I had. you 
would not get it. 

Paul. Henry Hollis has money concealed somewhere 
and you know where it is. 

Anna. He may have a million for all my knowing 
where it is. 

Paul. Bah ! That wont work on us. You aint that 
sort of a woman to not know where the money is. Why, 
vou used to go through my pockets when I slept, to see 
how much money I had, and it don't stand to reason 
that you don't know where your hubby has got his 
boodle stored. Come now, don't try to play off on us, 
for it won't pay you. 

Anna. I teli you, sir, that I know nothing about 
where nay husband keeps his money — and if I did, I 
would not confid the secret to a pair of wretches like 
vou two. 

Paul. Wretches, eh? 



40 RICHARD; or, THE CRIMSON CRESCENT. 

Anna. Ye^. wretches — villainous wretches. 

Paul. So you will risk exposure rather than pay us 
for keeping your secret. 

Anna. Yes, a thousand times, yes. 

Paul I thought you told me you loved your Davy? 

Anna. I love my husband, but not even to fear be- 
ing turned out upon the world, would I dishonor my- 
self by doing a wrong act toward him. 

Paul. You are getting very conscientious, it strikes 
me. I demand Flank Hollis's money— do you hear me. 
I demand it. 

Anna. It matters not. You will not get a penny 
of it. 

Paul. You defy me. curse you! 

Anna. Yes. I defy you both. 

Paul. Then, curse you, die! [Busines$.~\ Mercy! 
Mercy! For God's sake, spare me young man! 

Dick, You beg for mercy, you inhuman wretch V 
Did you show me mercy when you sent me and Cal. Kit 
down Reese river? 

Paul. No. I did not. but I was in liquor then and 
knew not what I was doing. 

Dick. Indeed! I suppose you will say you was in 
liquor when you murdered this woman? 

Paul. Mercy, sir. I beg! -it was under great provo- 
cations that I shot her.. 

Dick. Because she would not become a traitor to the 
man who believes her to be his lawful wife. Oh, I un- 
derstand the whole story. Paul Potter, and know that 
the man who leaped from the window is my worst ene- 
my. He thinks he will escape me, but he will not. My 
vengeance will as sure overtake him as the sun shines 
by day. And as for you. you are one of those who 
would have consigned me to a watery grave, and you 
shall not escape me. 

Paul. Mercy! Merey! Spare me. young man, and I 
will be your devoted slave for life. I will tell you where 
Cal. Kit is concealed, and 

Dick. Do you suppose I do not know'? You ar< 
fool as well as a craven! I saw you put her in Dutch 
Duff's cellar, and before that, I overheard all }'ou told 
Budd Bristol in the Daisy Saloon bar room. So you 



RICHARD; or, THE CRIMSON CRESCENT. 41 

see, I know Kit's identity. Ob, yon are not the only 
one I will wreak vengeance upon. So, as I have no 
time to spare, say yonr prayers, if yon have any to say. 
Yon need expect no mercy. — When I leave yon, yon 
will be the second man in Bummer's Bar who bears the 
sign of the Crimson Crescent. 

Paul. Mercy — Oh. have mercy ! 

Dick. Yon had no mercy. — One! [Business.] Two! 
[Business and Paul stands up.] Three! [Business,] 
Dick writes the note then exit out of the window thai 
Budd went through. — Brand. 

' (Enter David and Byron CD.) 

David. Great Heavens! There has been foul doings 
going on here. What? My wife murdered and her 
brother has no doubt been murdered while trying to de- 
fend her. Away and warn the town of this terrible 
tragedy. • 

Byron. But you must not stay here alone, or people 
may suspect you as guilty, [exit David and Byron c d. 
(Closed in street. — enter Duff Fly nn and Jury branded) 

Duff. Mine Gott, shendlemens, ve vas all got mur- 
dered by dis veller what stamp us on der foreheadts, ve 
all go deadt und den ve go — vel vere de tivil ve go an}~- 
way. Oh, mine Gott in Himmel, I wish I vas pack in 
Shermany vere der vas no Cal. Kits, no Frozen Bill's. 
no murder pizness, no nodings. (Dutchy gets excited 
and the men carry him off the stage.) 

Flynn. Come boys let's take him home. [Easiness. 

Duff. Yell goodt-py beeples I vas goin pack to 
Shermany. 

Re-open showing Parlor with window at side of c d. 
table, chairs and sofa. — David and Byron seated on 
sofa. — Business. — Enter Phyllis lIe. 

David. Who are you? 

Phyllis. You do not know me then, Henry Uollis? 

David. What? It cannot be that 3^011 are— 

Phyllis. Phyllis Penrose — a former nurse in your 
family, whom you discharged before your daughter was 
lost. 

David. True. I see the resemblance now. Believe 
me, Phyllis, I am glad to see you, for I have recently 
learned of your devotion to the task of trying to find 



42 RICHARD; or, THE CRIMSON CRESCENT. 

me. and restore to me my child. 

Phyllis. I have traveled far and wide, Henry Hollis, 
and it was only recently that I learned you were here, 
so I came here last night, but did not bring your child. 

David. So I am aware. But by strangest chance, 
my daughter, in male attire, arrived on the same stage 
that you did. She had been traveling for the past year 
with this man, whose name is Byron Bristol. To her 
discredit, she has been engaged in giving sparring ex- 
hibitions. • 

Phillis. I am aware of all that. Richard Bristol 
lias informed me of the same, and Henry Hollis where 
is your child now? For shame. To what terrible fate 
did you consign her? 

Doc id. For Heaven's sake do not mention that, for 
my regrets are bitter enough. I did not know it was 
my child — then. 

Phyllis. Even though you did not, you were a 
coward and a wretch to consign two innocent children. 
as it were, to such a fate, the boy escaped and will 
wreak vengeance upon you. * 

R'lroy, Then thank Heaven, my boy still lives. 

s. I have seen him and learned much from 
him I did not know before. I suppose you did not 
know that your murdered wife, was the wife of Paul 
Potter, and that she was also married before Potter 
knew her. Her first husband's name was Joe Ferris, 
alias Budd Bristol. 

Byron. What! Myfiendish brother? 

David. 1 have learned about their marriage from a 
note left by young Bristol. | Business. 

Budd. There he is, alive and looking better than a 
dead man yet. but he shall never live to interfere with 
my claims on the Niobrara ranch. Fll draw a bead on 
him that will finish him. [Business. 

Dick. Die, murderer of my mother and would be 
murderer of my father. — die like the dog you arc and 
then my oath will be fulfilled to the letter. So die! 

' | Business. 

Byron. My son ! My son! [ Byron <j<ds up,. 

Dick. Sit down. You are my father, Byron Bristol. 
but henceforth I am an outlaw and can be no son t<> 



RICHARD; ok, THE CRIMSON CRESCENT. 43 

you. Outside the cabin yonder, lies the body of our 
enemy, Budd Bristol. In killing him, I not only saved 
your life, but avenged the murder of my dear mother 
whom you deserted years ago. Here, sir, are the docu- 
ments that will re-establish you at the Niobrara ranche, 
where you ean spend your declining years in peace and 
comfort. And as for vou, sir, this lady has, no doubt, 
explained everything, except that your daughter still 
lives. 

Dae id. Thank God. 

Dick. You need not, for she is far from here now 
and you will never set eyes upon her again. By mutual 
consent we have linked our fates together, and will be 
married within a month.. You may hunt us,if you like, 
but if you do, beware of the fatal sign of the '.'Crimson 
Crescent." I swore to be revenged upon you — and this 
is my revenge. ^ [Bed Fire. 

CURTAIN. 

NOTICE. — Please return this book to the Author im- 
mediately after the close of the last performance, 
together with all the properties you have belonging 
to the same. 



&-* •♦- 



-♦ — -2-e 



fW Shis ©lay must not be PER- 
formed without permission of the 
Author. Address him fop, terms, etc., 
at (Qinerva, Ohio. 




HnSl" INGRESS" 




